


A love triangle, how ridiculous.

by ExplainingTheIndescribable



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Love, Romance, Smut, no triangles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 22:03:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5682433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExplainingTheIndescribable/pseuds/ExplainingTheIndescribable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cartinelli. How Angie reacts to the idea of Peggy being in a love triangle, with a happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A love triangle, how ridiculous.

**Author's Note:**

> I can neither confirm nor deny whether this is in response to the incessant chatter about the s2 love triangle. But I will say, who needs the canonverse when they go right ahead ruin a potentially beautiful thing.

Peggy opened the door to the mansion, kicking off her shoes by the door so Angie doesn’t tell her off for getting mud into the carpet again.  
“Angie? I’m home.”  
There’s no response, but she can hear the definite sounds of someone further into the house. Peggy pauses, and the hummed show tunes tell her it’s Angie in the kitchen. The Italian woman likes singing generally, but for some reason it’s always theatrical show tunes when she cooks. And as suspicious as her mind generally is, she severely doubts any nefarious criminal would hum ‘Oh What a Beautiful Morning’ as they did their work.  
She makes her way there, to see if there’s any help she can give, though she knows Angie will just bat her away. She may be small but she’s also fierce. And very territorial over the kitchen.  
“Anything I can do?”  
Angie starts, turning from the sauce she’s stirring to grin at her housemate.  
“You’re home early! And no, I got everythin’ under control over here, thanks.”  
Peggy takes a seat at one of the bar stools, before thinking better of it and heading to the fridge for a bottle of wine.  
“So, come on, tell me about your day?”  
“It was fairly ordinary actually. Although, there was this one thing you might find amusing…”  
Peggy pauses, hunting through a drawer.  
“Ah, yeah, I don’t think he has a corkscrew. Or at least I haven’t been able to find one.”  
“Did you try drinking without me?”  
Peggy’s tone is mischievous as she raises an eyebrow.  
“It’s for the sauce… And Schnapps doesn’t need a corkscrew English,” she grins “go on.”  
“Oh right, yes. One moment.”  
Peggy takes a knife from a drawer next to Angie’s hip and in one swift motion swipes the cork right off the bottle.  
“Nice trick.”  
“Thank you.”  
She takes two glasses to the bar stool and sits, pouring them each a glass.  
“So Sousa and the new doctor, Wilkes, I caught them arguing, heatedly, like they were about to start physically fighting” her face breaks out into a grin “over a woman. Can you imagine. Two, supposedly, grown-up men behaving like children over a female… Honestly, you wouldn’t know they’re meant to be civilised SSR agents at all”  
Angie pauses, expression carefully neutral. Or as close to it as she can muster, but then, she is an actress after all.  
“Whaddaya mean over a woman?”  
“Well, I didn’t want to intrude on a personal matter, but it seems Sousa’s had his eye on someone for quite some time, and now apparently so does Wilkes… and they were arguing none too quietly in the interrogation room no less. I had half a mind to get them playing rock, paper, scissors.”  
Peggy waits a beat, expecting Angie to smile at the idiocy of her co-workers as usual, but her demeanour remains unchanged.  
“What is it Angie?”  
“Oh nothin’, nothin’.”  
Peggy sits quietly, sipping her wine and waiting for Angie to either tell her the truth, or change the subject. She won’t interrogate her, but she won’t give her an easy out either.  
“It’s just…”  
Angie turns the heat off on all the knobs on the cooker, and places her hands on either side of the appliance, locking her arms.  
“God English, for a super spy you can be so dense.”  
Peggy still waits. Biting back the sharp retorts that come to mind.  
Angie spins around to face Peggy suddenly.  
“You know they’re talkin’ about you, right?”  
Well that caught her off guard.  
“What?”  
“They’re talkin’ about you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. The fella with the crutch, right?”  
Peggy nods briefly and her mind whirs through their interactions.  
…he had asked her out for a drink… Guess that wasn’t an invitation to join the guys and be drinking buddies after all.  
Angie watches her while she muses.  
“I suppose you could be right.”  
“Could be? English, you’re as blind as a naked mole rat!”  
Peggy gives her a quizzical look.  
“There was a programme on tv… look that’s not the point right now!”  
She’s clearly flustered, and as much as Peggy finds it adorable, it’s also confusing. Angie knows Peggy’s hers. Beyond a shadow of a doubt.  
Until the penny drops a moment later.  
“And you don’t want them fighting over me?”  
“It’s objectification. That’s what it is. My ma always used ta say it, they fight over ya like some prized panettone, treat ya real nice, make ya feel special… and then bam. The next day you’re married and livin' in Armonk, and then the day after that, they’re cheatin’ on you with some skank while you look afta the kids.”  
She crossed her arms and nodded in a manner she thought was sage.  
“And you think… what, that I’m daft enough to be a part of that silly little love triangle?”  
“You already are part of it! Or at least, they think you are. To them, you’re fair game”.  
Angie sniffed, and looked behind Peggy’s shoulder as though the neo-classical style wallpaper was suddenly the most interesting thing she’d ever seen.  
“Darling,” Peggy took Angie’s hand into her own and held it gently “you have nothing to worry about.”  
When Angie still wouldn’t look at her, Peggy got up and walked around to her side of the counter  
“You think you can lose me so easily?”  
“No, Peggy, it’s not like that.”  
Angie was suddenly holding Peggy’s gaze with the force of a tidal wave.  
“Then what…”  
Angie looked down to where Peggy was holding her hands again.  
“They think they have a shot. They think you’re free, and single, and that you’re some trophy either of them can fight for and win.” The anger dissipates as quickly as it came, and she lets out a sigh. “They think they have a shot.”  
Peggy kisses Angie’s cheek, before wrapping her arms around her.  
“But you and I, we both know they don’t.”  
Angie’s arms hold tighter around her back before letting her go.  
“Ya can’t blame a girl for wanting to keep you all to herself. You’re a lot to lose, Peg.”  
Peggy catches her gaze again, with a finger under her chin.  
“I only have eyes for you.”  
Neither is sure who starts the kiss, but it’s soft and sweet. And full of the reassurances that words only simply cannot make. Not in a time when people are not free to be themselves with love.  
Hiding and forced secrecy can do a lot of damage, even in the best of cases. Even when it's safer for the short-term.  
“Can we tell them you’re datin’ someone? My brother will happily play along if you need a body. And beat them up if they get outta line. Not that you couldn’t…! You just shouldn’t have to…”  
A smile plays on Peggy’s lips before she kisses Angie’s neck softly, leaving almost a perfect lipstick print behind.  
“If you’d like. It could be rather entertaining…”  
She spares a thought for the numerous pranks she could play on them with Tommy’s help.  
Angie brushes her nose against Peggy’s.  
“Thank you Peg… and for being understanding about all’a this…”  
“It’s hard, I know. Truthfully, I feel it too sometimes. Particularly when you’re being all adorable at work and I can’t even kiss you on the cheek… but some assholes think they’ve got the right to treat you” she takes a moment to simmer down the anger in her chest, she’s not going to take that out on Angie “as far less than you deserve. Just because you’re not wearing a bloody band.”  
Angie looks at her slyly and grins.  
“Does that mean you’ll understand if I threaten your co-workers with a fork?”  
Peggy’s eyebrows shoot up and Angie swats her shoulder with a laugh at her surprise at being caught.  
“You think I didn’t see that? You might’a been careful the first couple times but-“  
She’s cut off as warm lips press to her own, and Angie smiles against soft lips.  
“Hold up a second English… Something you just said… You’ve given me an idea. Wait right there.”  
Angie dashes off, apron flying as she heads upstairs.  
Peggy’s left somewhat bemused in the kitchen, heavenly smells still permeating the air from the various pots and one pan that Angie has on the stove. She listens to make sure Angie isn’t thundering back down the stairs already, then dips her finger in the sauce.  
Mmmm.… carbonara.  
Seconds later she hears the tell tale sound of Angie’s still-stocking’d feet on the stairs, and then Angie is in front of her holding a necklace out and placing it carefully into her palm. A necklace with a gorgeous gold ring hanging off it. The emerald in the middle sparkles like it holds the sun itself, set off by a sparkling diamond on the other side.  
Peggy stares at her. Then at the ring. Then back to Angie.  
“It was my grandmother’s.”  
As though that’s an explanation.  
Blank shock has taken over her features and for a long moment Peggy does an excellent impression of a gaping fish.  
“Oh calm down English. Geez Louise, way to hit a girl’s self-esteem. This is just so we don’t get hit on by idiots at work… I didn’t mean it… well, like that…”  
Angie gives her an innocent look. That is mainly the reason, after all. At these words, English seems to regains some sense of composure.  
“Right. Of course.”  
Peggy thinks of her mother’s ring upstairs in her bedside drawer.  
It was a logical solution… And it would suit Angie's hand perfectly...  
Blue eyes meet brown hesitantly, unable to read her expression, and thinking that perhaps she’s just gone and messed up, whatever they have, royally.  
Though it takes Peggy a moment to recover, she needn’t have worried.  
“I love you.”  
“Ti amo.”  
Both sets of flushed cheeks go unnoticed as both are soon pressed tightly together again, lips locked as Peggy’s hands pull Angie’s waist closer, and Angie’s tug through Peggy’s hair.  
Both completely forget about dinner until Angie’s stomach growls in protest early the next morning. Peggy simply smiles at the sound, and tightens her hold on Angie’s torso. This bed is far too comfortable with Angie in it for her to let go just yet.  
“English.”  
Angie tries to extract herself.  
“Nope.”  
“English, I’m hungry.”  
“Hi hungry, I’m comfortable.”  
Angie laughs, before attempting to wriggle free with all her might, but to no avail. English doesn’t relent. Damn strong super spy…  
So she changes tactic.  
She kisses along Peggy’s shoulder, down her collarbone and up on to her neck, sucking slightly, just above the skin that’s already turned red from last night’s activities. Peggy lets out a small moan and brings her hand to Angie’s face, capturing her lips in a kiss that becomes more heated.  
Until Angie pulls away, to much disbelief. And then Peggy realises she’s been played.  
“Oh that was sly….”  
Angie grabs Peggy’s robe from the back of the door and turns to face her lover, attempting a reprimanding voice.  
“You should know better than to stand between an Italian and her food.”  
Peggy looks at her, propped up on one elbow and wearing nothing but the sheet that just about covers half her back.  
“Even when said Italian is gorgeous and intelligent and wonderful and looking incredibly sexy in my robe?”  
Angie winks, and heads off to the kitchen, calling out after her.  
“Feel free to join me for breakfast! I’m thinkin’a making pancakes…”  
Peggy takes a moment to sulk. Dammit. That woman knows pancakes are her favourite. And she had such big plans to stay in bed all Sunday….  
She does make it down for breakfast. Well, long enough to put a pancake on a plate, pour a glass of orange juice, and take both back towards her bedroom. She is still wearing her birthday suit after all.  
Angie stares at her as she walks past, and Peggy simply winks, putting an extra sway in her hips and licks some of the honey off her pancake as she goes.  
Angie follows after her about one second behind.  
Who needs to turn up for Sunday shifts anyway.


End file.
